


What will you get...

by SqueezeBabe



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Fluff with feelings, Gen, Victor's birthday exchange 2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-26 02:39:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17133485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SqueezeBabe/pseuds/SqueezeBabe
Summary: What will you get for your birthday this year? A chance to see into the future? Or a reminder of the imperfect past?





	What will you get...

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! This is my little ficlet for the Victor's 30th Birthday Exchange.
> 
> My fic is for @tesereil - I hope you like it!
> 
> Also - completely unexpected! The lovely Blanchette drew some art for it! So double the presents!

_What will you get for your birthday this year? A chance to see into the future? Or a reminder of the imperfect past?_

As the words echoed in his mind, Viktor pulled his coat tightly around him, shivering as the cold wind swirled about, sending flurries of snow into the air. Winter this year seemed particularly bitter, much like the quiet tones of the gypsy woman who had claimed to tell his fortune.

It _was_ his birthday “soon”, superstition preventing him from articulating the thought, even to himself. It was bad luck to celebrate your birthday early, or have someone wish you a happy birthday before the day; an ill-luck omen that you wouldn’t live to see the actual day.

He was getting “old” - that much he would admit - and thoughts of his future loomed bleakly, much like the grey skies above him. A wry smile played across his lips. Thirty was hardly old, in fact, it should be the prime of his life, except of course if you were an ice skater… thirty was positively _ancient_.

He paused for a moment, looking up towards the cloudy darkness, closing his eyes as motes of snow brushed against his face, melting before they’d even had a chance to stick. What would he give for a chance to see into the future? The Nationals were only a few days away; they were supposed to be his chance to prove to the world, and to himself, that he hadn’t lost his edge, that he was still Viktor Nikiforov, the ‘Living Legend’, the best ice skater the world had ever seen.

A small frown creased his brow. It hadn’t always been so… people seemed to forget that to get to where he was, that he had worked _so very hard_ to get there. It wasn’t like he’d woken up one day and he was suddenly the best; those who had once beaten him, clung to that memory like a dying men, vowing to themselves that they could do so again, just as Viktor vowed to himself to never let it happen.

It had been an incredibly long and lonely road, and few had been with him for the entirety of it.

He swallowed hard against the lump that had formed in his throat, and blinked away the tears that threatened.

Makka was also old, much older than she had any right to be, but his faithful companion had been with him through it all.

He’d never told anyone that Makka was more than “just” a dog, that he’d received her as a gift from Yakov after the incident, to help him get through it; that Makka was trained to respond to his moods and be the rock that grounded him and prevented him from being swept away by them.

He took a deep breath against the rising tide of emotions and resumed his walk, his feet taking him back to his apartment… he’d spent most of the evening being distracted by all manner of things; it was nearly midnight, and Makka would be waiting for him.

A flurry of activity from across the street caught his attention, children were gathered around a cardboard box on the ground, their voices loud and shrill, before the adults appeared, presumably their parents, admonishing them and dragging them away.

Viktor turned away, but a phrase cut through the chill night air.

“But it’s a puppy!”

He hesitated for a moment, watching the parents tugging along behind them, before he crossed the street, approaching the sad-looking cardboard box. He crouched down, resting on his heels and looked inside.

Nestled within a worn and faded blanket, eyes barely open and shivering against the cold, was indeed a puppy.

Gently, almost reverently, Viktor picked the puppy up, swaddling the tiny creature in it’s tattered bedding and tucked him into the front of his coat, cradling it against his chest.

As he stood, a faint tolling of bells sounded across the city.

Midnight.

Viktor smiled to himself.

_What will you get for your birthday this year?_

The puppy squirmed inside his coat, whining softly as it settled into his warmth. Viktor would have to hurry home, Makka would be waiting for him.

It seemed that someone, somewhere, had been listening after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Please let me know if I've missed any tags that should be there. 
> 
> You can follow me on twitter and Pillowfort @SqueezeBabe


End file.
